Silverfox 10
#10 of Silverfox
Silverfox 10
Silverfox grabbed their checked suitcase off the carousel and wheeled it over to where Shadowfox was waiting with their carryons. Silverfox stood the case on end, and draped her coat over the extended handle. She opened the zippered compartment on top of the suitcase. She paused. It contained a grooming kit and a folded Gerber knife.
Shadowfox's eyes laughed as Silverfox pressed her lips together and put her coat back on. "Did you forget we're in Vancouver?" asked the black vixen.
"I guess," Silverfox confessed reluctantly. She had just woken up a few minutes before landing, and Canadian gun laws had honestly slipped her mind. She kicked herself.
Shadowfox grinned, just a bit; there was no need for her to belabor the point.
"So where's the cab stand?" Silverfox asked.
"Cabs are for rich folk, Argent," Shadowfox said, using Silverfox's brand new identity.
Shadowfox took Silverfox affectionately by the arm. Silverfox tensed, just slightly. But logically it didn't matter, because Silverfox didn't have a gun to draw.
"No," Shadowfox said, amused, "the free shuttles to the hotel start at 0600, so we wait a couple of hours."
"Or we could walk." Silverfox had energy she wanted to burn off, the luggage had backpack straps, and it wasn't more than twenty kilograms.
"Six kilometers," Shadowfox said with a happy nod.
It would be doable and faster than waiting for the shuttle. But it was hard to believe. "Six kilometers," Silverfox repeated. "A hotel with the word 'airport' in its name is six kilometers from the airport?"
"Strange are the customs of this foreign land," Shadowfox agreed. "Let us acquire Egg McMuffins and dine thereon. It will be the culinary high point of our day, I fear." She smiled sadistically, knowing that Silverfox hated short-money rations.
Silverfox nodded. It was actually unusually liberal of Shadowfox. The last time it had been the roll from the plane and a bag of apples from the farmers' market. For a day. "Why is it that I always end up travelling with you when you're supposed to be short of cash?" she asked.
Shadowfox laughed merrily. "Because Foxforce can't afford to have both of us flying business class and steak and eggs for breakfast."
Silverfox's tummy rumbled.
Once, as part of a cover, Shadowfox had crossed the country on a Boeing 2707, business class. The other three had driven to make up for the cost of the ticket. Shadowfox had sent them pictures of her food and her seat with her cell phone, so they could all enjoy the experience along with her as they bounced through Nebraska.
Shadowfox looked at the menu. "Be sure to keep your cut under five dollars. We've got a twenty for today's vittles. If we're good now, we can get a bag of apples."
"Yum. When were you planning on meeting David?" Silverfox asked.
"Tonight," Shadowfox said. She wrinkled her nose. "He wanted to meet at the aquarium."
They walked to the end of the line at the McDonalds, and stood behind a businessman.
"What's wrong with meeting at the aquarium?" Silverfox asked.
"Ebony's personality," Shadowfox said. "We have ten days until her audition. Ebony is a tart trying to find a sugar daddy to keep us fed until then. Ebony is not going to go to the aquarium. She's going to find a pickup bar."
That reminded Silverfox of a conversation she wanted to have. The gray fox glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention. "I was wondering if we could talk a little about Argent," she said. "I read the write-up, of course, but there seem to be so many gaps in it."
Shadowfox nodded seriously. "There always are. They don't want to put you in a straitjacket, but they need to get the paperwork to match. You can't contradict that but otherwise you're free to play with the character. It's a little like fanfic."
"Yeah, I suppose." Silverfox scratched her ear. "The bit that bothers me most right now is how Argent washed out of Ranger training school."
"They couldn't have you get in," Shadowfox said. "Rangers are almost like an extended family, and they're very protective of their reputation. There's websites devoted to finding and unmasking fake Rangers. If you try to pose as a Ranger they'll find you."
"Oh, I understand that," Silverfox said. "I just wonder if Argent is a fuckup."
"Failing to make it into the Rangers doesn't make you a fuckup. Heck, just getting into Ranger School is an accomplishment."
"Which would be why I'm wondering, yes."
"Oh. Of course. Sorry." Shadowfox looked thoughtful. "Did they say why Argent washed out? There had to be a box checked on her record."
"Apparently Argent assaulted a drill sergeant," Silverfox said.
"That's interesting, because it can go so many ways," Shadowfox said. "Maybe Argent was an uncontrollable rage case. Maybe she was provoked. Heck, maybe she was attacked, maybe it was an accident and nobody believed her."
"Hmm," Silverfox said, thinking it over. "So it's a matter of figuring out what really happened?"
"That's the first step. But remember," Shadowfox said. She raised her finger to underscore her point. "Unless Argent is very good at self-analysis, whatever really happened is not Argent's fault."
"Why not?" Silverfox asked, a little surprised.
"I don't mean that literally," Shadowfox explained. "I'm explaining how Argent feels about it, and what she will say if she's asked. You can decide that Argent was a bad recruit. But it's really unlikely she sees it that way."
"So no matter what, Argent thinks that bastard was singling her out," Silverfox said.
"You got it," Shadowfox said with a nod.
"That fucker," Silverfox snarled, ears settling against her head. Passers-by glanced at her and she fought to keep from laughing.
"That's the spirit," Shadowfox said encouragingly. "I wonder if we should focus on how Argent and Ebony feel about one another."
"Oh, God, here comes the relationship talk..." Silverfox muttered.
"It's important," Shadowfox insisted.
"Well, we know why Ebony has Argent along," Silverfox said. "She wants protection. So she's probably paying Argent."
"Except Ebony's short of funds," Shadowfox reminded her.
"I wasn't talking about money." Silverfox blew kisses at her.
"I don't know -- is Argent the jealous type?" Shadowfox asked.
"I get that vibe from her. So maybe Ebony's giving Argent room and board with a promise of a payoff in the future," Silverfox suggested.
"It can't be entirely mercenary, though," Shadowfox said. "Obviously, Ebony didn't meet Argent through their mob connections, because you don't have any. That means they must be friends or acquaintances."
"That makes sense. Hey, maybe I could pose as muscle for hire," Silverfox suggested. "See if the mob tries to hire me."
"That's possible, but it's really risky," Shadowfox said.
Silverfox nodded. The black vixen was right, of course. It wasn't illegal to sleep with mob bosses; Shadowfox was generally careful not to accept cash presents to avoid technical charges of unlicensed prostitution. But if Silverfox took a contract to break someone's kneecaps the police wouldn't give her a pass. A cover like that almost demanded she break the law.
"Yeah, dumb idea. Mind if I come with you to the bar tonight?"
"Not at all," Shadowfox said. "I'll be glad of your company."
"While you're pretending to hook up with David, I'll find a date for real. It will add verisimilitude."
"Huh," Shadowfox said. "Right, sorry, I hadn't thought that side of things through."
Silverfox was silent. She wondered sometimes if Shadowfox knew why she needed someone every night. The thought made her feel a little uncomfortable.
"You like the Sausage McMuffin, right?" Shadowfox asked. "I'll get it. You find a table with an outlet and start charging my notebook."
"Sure. And I'd like an orange juice, and coffee." Silverfox said.
"The coffee you had on the plane can keep you until we get to use the immersion heater," Shadowfox corrected her.
"Not the immersion heater," Silverfox said with some anguish. "Don't tell me you brought the immersion heater." Food-wise, Shadowfox overlapped both ends of the spectrum. On the high end was the Shadowfox Breakfast, which contained food value sufficient to fuel entire villages. On the other end was the Ebony Meal, cooked with the dreaded Immersion Heater, warming tap water for instant coffee and chicken-flavored salt broth. Ebony even used ketchup to make tomato soup.
"The immersion heater," Shadowfox confirmed. "We are working on a tight budget. You can have an extra-large orange juice, or a McMuffin." Shadowfox tossed a handful of ketchup packets into her carry-on. "For soup," she explained.
"'Swinging on the Riviera one day...'" Silverfox quoted. "I suppose I should come clean. I brought a roll of Necco Wafers. I'll split it with you. The carbs could mean the difference between life and death for us."
"Thanks."
"And save half your muffin," Silverfox ordered. "I think I can use it to catch pigeons. You can make squab soup with tap water and the immersion heater."
Shadowfox laughed at first, and then looked thoughtful.
But at least she didn't save her muffin for bait.
After breakfast, they rode the free shuttle to their hotel. It was in Richmond, not Vancouver proper. Shadowfox tipped the driver with a smile in lieu of cash, but he seemed pleased with it. Shadowfox had a nice smile. The hotel was $55 a night for the two of them, and it had a roof and presumably electrical power in every room.
Their room wasn't ready yet, but they were allowed to check their luggage in the reception office. Silverfox grabbed a cup of coffee from the "Guests Only" table, and considered swiping a few bags of sugar to suck on.
"Here," Shadowfox said, handing Silverfox a small bundle that contained a Nylon backpack. "You can carry our groceries."
Silverfox nodded.
By then, it was 0647. Check-in was 1500.
There was a supermarket nearby, already open. They went shopping for food, and something died inside Silverfox when Shadow bought a bag of apples and a loaf of bread.
"Can we drop these off at the hotel?" Silverfox asked.
"Not if you want to have lunch," Shadowfox said absently, considering a jar of peanut butter. "Chunky is on sale."
"Great," Silverfox said with a lack of enthusiasm.
"You see?" Shadowfox asked triumphantly. "Aren't you glad now that I wouldn't let you splurge on orange juice this morning? Think how many sandwiches we can have during our stay. And with the immersion heater, Folgers' Crystals and bouillon cubes I packed with us, we're now set for three or four days." She nodded to herself. "Isn't that great?"
Three or four days of bouillon, apples, and peanut butter sandwiches. Silverfox's irritation boiled over. "I am okay with the fifty-five dollar a night hotel," Silverfox said. "Someone might be able to check where we stayed. But do you really believe that anyone is going to say, 'Hey, these girls had burgers and poutine for lunch -- they must be working on an expense account?'"
"We're lucky. Cheshire and Modesty have to live like this all the time." Cheshire and Modesty had a kitchen, but it was fair comment.
"And there are children starving in Europe," Silverfox agreed. "So?"
They switched subjects while going through the cashiers' line.
Shadowfox took the groceries and slipped them into Silverfox's Nylon backpack. "It's all part of the roles we're playing," Shadowfox said. "We have no income, remember."
"Ebony has no bank account?"
"Not enough of one to splurge when she doesn't have to," Shadowfox said firmly.
"Are you going to try to land a job?" Silverfox asked.
"Yes." Shadowfox ran her fingers through her hair. "I lined up some interviews. I'd appreciate it if you came along."
"Do you think you're at risk?" Silverfox asked.
Shadowfox shook her head. "I don't believe that the Connors are going to send a triggerman to Vancouver. Ebony isn't quite that worried either. She's just blowing town for a month or so, but she's not incognito. I want people to know Ebony is in Vancouver. The Connors have decent intelligence and they will probably hear about me through the porn grapevine."
"That's logical," Silverfox agreed.
"I don't expect to get a job, though."
"Why not?"
"_Foxy Vixen_ did well -- so Ebony is in sort of an awkward price range. I can't work for tips, or I'll devalue my own brand name. I'm not a major star, but I will pull people in."
"Well deserved. I saw you in Geronimo," Silverfox said.
Shadowfox smiled, a bit uncomfortably. "Thanks."
"How much did Geronimo pay you?" Silverfox asked.
"Geronimo is owned by an ICON company," Shadowfox said. "They agreed to provide me a cover. It wasn't an engagement, not really."
Silverfox looked at her. "So you didn't get paid?"
"Not above the operative contract, no. I kept my tips and we sold some Ebony merchandise."
Silverfox shook her head sadly. "That is so unfair."
"Why?" Shadowfox asked. "I'm not a stripper. I'm pretending to be a stripper."
"That raises all sorts of existential questions." Silverfox said. It was 0754, local. When did the offices of a strip joint typically open? "How much time do we have?"
"Skinner's is about four kilometers from here and the appointment's at 0900," Shadowfox said. "Let's walk it."
"I don't suppose there's any chance you'll be carrying the groceries?" Silverfox asked.
"I have to look nice," Shadowfox said. "And since I don't want to land any work, I'd appreciate it if you used your aura to project a man-hating-dyke penis-repelling force field."
"I don't have that power any more," Silverfox said.
"Well, try. Could you just be ... I don't know, sort of vaguely unpleasant? You're pretty good at that," Shadowfox told her.
"I am?" Silverfox asked, frowning.
"Sure. Just be the merry vixen we all know and love."
The first place was called Skinner's and it looked like a bunker.
Silverfox was uncomfortable just walking in; she had the feeling the door would close behind them and they would vanish from the earth. Silverfox had seen comic book stores that were more pleasant. The lighting used when the place was closed wasn't forgiving; Silverfox could see cobwebs that were older than she was. The place had a weirdly post-apocalyptic vibe to it, as though it were filled with bikers with Mohawks. It probably looked better under more subdued lights.
The owner was, incredibly enough, named James Skinner. He was balding and tried to pretend he wasn't, wearing his hair in a comb over that was the male equivalent of an old woman with too much rouge. He looked at Silverfox from time to time as though wondering if she was sleeping with Shadowfox; Silverfox felt naked and it wasn't just because she didn't have a gun. It inspired her to glower at him.
"So have you worked live before?" Skinner asked Shadowfox.
Silverfox rolled her eyes. Ebony was hardly a household name, but someone in the industry should know enough to look up interviewees on Chickipedia. It wasn't like Shadowfox had just wandered in off the street.
"Yes," Shadowfox said politely. "I've worked in six clubs. Last February I was in Geronimo in Atlanta, after that I had a week's engagement in Chicago's Twin Peaks Lounge."
"Let's see what you can do," he said, pointing at the stage.
Shadowfox looked at the stage dubiously, and back at him. "I don't have my costumes with me," Shadowfox said, "but I can show you some bits." She smiled pleasantly. "First, what's your offer?"
"Basically," he said, "you rent stage space from me and keep your tips."
"How much?" Shadowfox asked.
"One hundred an evening," he said. "Or five hundred a week. That's four hours a day."
Shadowfox blinked. "Five hundred?" she asked. "That's a huge cut." She looked around. "I can't believe this place attracts that sort of clientele."
"Most of the dancers here pull in around three hundred a night," Skinner said.
Shadowfox looked at him. "For what?" she asked.
Skinner shrugged. "You pick your clients," he said.
"I'm not a prostitute," Shadowfox said.
"All right," he sighed. "Four hundred for the week, if you pay in cash."
"There's some other places I want to try first," Shadowfox said. "Why don't I come back this time tomorrow? I can bring my costumes for the audition."
"That deal's only good for today," Skinner said.
"Then I have a baseline. Are you available to continue this conversation tomorrow, at ten o'clock?" Shadowfox asked.
"I'll tell you the truth," Skinner said. "You don't know this town. Fur's cheap."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Shadowfox replied. "Tomorrow at ten, unless I cancel."
Skinner bit the inside of his lip, perhaps regretting it, perhaps not.
"What did you expect?" Shadowfox asked, dourly. "A jovial father figure?"
"I didn't expect anything," Silverfox said. "I'm just glad to get out of there. Isn't prostitution illegal in Canada?" Silverfox asked.
"No," Shadowfox said. "But pimping or running a house of prostitution is..."
Silverfox frowned. "I know that's not uncommon but it never made any sense to me. It's like saying it's legal to program software for money, but it's not legal to place a programmer in an employment agency, and it's not legal for two programmers to work in the same office."
Shadowfox laughed. "Yeah, it makes more sense to license it... but he probably runs Skinner's to stay inside the law. Did you notice the other chimerae?"
"No," Silverfox said. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen another chimera since we left the airport."
"Kind of funny, if fur is cheap in this town," Shadowfox mused.
"I'm surprised he didn't look up Ebony before the meeting," Silverfox said. "But if it's just a front for prostitution..."
"Two blocks from a college dorm," Shadowfox muttered, disapprovingly. "You just know it's the grabbiest and cheapest clientele in Vancouver."
"Tch," Silverfox said, shaking her head.
"That offer was better than nothing, and now Ebony has a fallback position," Shadowfox said. "I need room and board for ten days, and it's plausible that I'd rather have a sugar daddy than work in a dump like that. So, it will make sense for me to hook up with David."
"Gotcha," Silverfox agreed.
Eve's Apple was a newer place, with a brightly-lit all-windows boutique on the bottom floor. There were no windows on the second floor. Silverfox guessed that the dancing took place on the upper story, which seemed like a strange arrangement. Large LED panels hanging from the second story showed low-frame rate video; the logo alternating with sultry-looking girls pursing their lips.
"This looks more promising," Silverfox said. At least it wasn't a toilet.
"They won't hire me either," Shadowfox disagreed. "They have headliners scheduled out weeks and months in advance. They have advertisements in the pipe, T-Shirts, posters printed up for sale, shipments of Amanda Keller Penis Enlargers coming in. Skinner's lacks scope. A larger place like this lacks agility. If I get an offer, it will be a lousy one."
Silverfox nodded, and the two of them crossed the street and went in. It was still early. The bottom floor had shelves for coffee table books, video, and kiosks for viewing samples and buying codes for downloadable media. There was also an amazing collection of impractical underwear.
There was a woman behind the counter. She was a bit overweight and had too much metal in her face for Silverfox's taste, but she had a nice smile and Silverfox couldn't help but smile back, even though Argent was a touch surly.
Shadowfox explained who she was and that she had a meeting with Mark Giordano and they were buzzed through a secure door marked PRIVATE.
Giordano was in his early thirties, with thick hair and olive skin. "Good morning," he said pleasantly. "I'm Mark. I'm glad you were able to come in today."
"Thank you," Shadowfox said. "My name is Ebony, and this is my friend Argent."
"Good morning. Does Argent work with you?" he asked.
"No. She's just a friend."
Silverfox narrowed her eyes, as though to say, "And do you want to make something of it, you heteronormative pig?"
"Well, pleased to meet you both," Giordano said. "Ebony, I'm familiar with your work -- I saw you in Austin. Wonderful. You put a lot into the movement."
"Thank you," Shadowfox said.
"Okay," Giordano said. He glanced at his computer screen. "We'll give you six thousand five hundred dollars for a week's engagement, Friday to Thursday, nine three hour shifts, with two matinees. That's ... six three eighty nine and change in US dollars at today's rates."
He let that sink in, and Silverfox fought to keep from laughing.
"Two days from now?" Shadowfox asked, a little dubiously.
"Yes." He nodded.
"That's ... sort of sudden," Shadowfox said.
"Yes, and I hope you're available," Giordano said.
"What happened?" Shadowfox asked. "Isn't Anna Tiesse here next week?"
"Anna Tiesse broke her ankle in Montreal last night," Giordano admitted.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I met her in Anchorage -- she was really nice. Eight thousand," Shadowfox replied.
"Seven thousand loonies. I can't go much higher than that. You know that there isn't enough time for a proper build-up."
"That's true," Shadowfox admitted.
"Besides, I'm sitting on two gross of Anna Tiesse Penis Enlargement kits. C'mon -- you're obviously at liberty and it's seven thousand you wouldn't make otherwise."
"I don't know..." Shadowfox said.
"You have the CAD designs for your T-Shirts and stuff, right?" he asked. "I've got some fabricators I do a lot of business with. I'll back you so you can have them run off the first set on credit."
Shadowfox considered, and finally nodded. "All right," she said, "That sounds good." She opened her wallet and took out a data card. "This has T-Shirt designs and some 3-D printer files for figurines. There's also some video, but that's sold online. That's all copyrighted, of course. I also do photo ops."
"Gotcha. Do you have pictures I can use for promotion?" he asked.
"Yes, in the 'Promotion' directory."
A smile flicked over his face. "That would follow, wouldn't it?"
She put it on the desk. "We can hash out the details while you copy this. Do you mind if I look through the lingerie on display?"
"Sure, feel free. Borrow anything you like."
"Borrow?" Shadowfox asked.
"Sure. Then I can auction it off." He shrugged. "Or if you'd rather keep it, I'll give you the wholesale price."
"Sounds good," Shadowfox nodded. She smiled broadly.
Shadowfox was all bright eyes and swishing tail as she left the office, and it turned into a scowl on the street.
"Crap," she muttered.
"What?" Silverfox asked, carrying a bag with six sets of clothing that were illegal some places. "It sounds like you swung a good deal there." She looked off into the distance. "You have to admit Giordano's pretty agile."
"Ha, ha," Shadowfox muttered.
"So," Silverfox said, "Are you still going to hook up with David?"
"Ebony doesn't have a reason to, does she?" Shadowfox said.
"Would you rather?" Silverfox asked.
Shadowfox looked distracted, and Silverfox knew the vixen was composing an email with her neural implant, painfully pecking out a letter at a time.
"What's the email about?" Silverfox asked.
"I'll cc you," Shadowfox said. She sighed. "What if the Connors are trying to pin Ebony down? Is Giordano connected to them? Did Anna Tiesse really break her ankle in Montreal? I've never just walked into a seven thousand dollar contract."
"Gee, Davey... d'ya think maybe ... it's ... God?" Silverfox asked in her best Goliath impersonation.
Shadowfox paused and cocked an inquiring eyebrow. "I really want to understand how your brain got there," Shadowfox asked politely.
"God doesn't want you lying to David, and keeping Technofox from riding him to heaven and back," Silverfox explained, "so He --"
"Don't joke about that," Shadowfox muttered, frowning. Silverfox saw it was a real frown, so she backed off.
Silverfox looked around. She froze, and pointed back at Eve's Apple. Shadowfox followed her finger.
The marquee lit up with a still picture of Shadowfox in a bikini made of beads. Over the image was embedded the text, 32 HOURS TO EBONY -- APPEARING LIVE @ EVE'S APPLE.
"Now that's what I call agile," Silverfox said, admiringly. "Well, let's go."
"Where?" Shadowfox asked.
Silverfox pointed across the street to a place with the unlikely name of Mapleburger. "It's 1130, and we need hamburgers and poutine. Oh, and they have a liquor license. I'll buy the beer."
Silverfox inserted her fork into a bowl and speared a set of French fries. She lifted her fork, spinning it to break the threads of melted cheese, and dipped it lightly into a puddle of gravy. She put it into her mouth and closed her eyes, savoring the taste.
"You really like that stuff, don't you?" Shadowfox asked around a mouthful of salad.
"Once in a while," Silverfox admitted.
Shadowfox nodded. "I'll fix some for you once this is over."
"Thanks," Silverfox said, feeling a little guilty about riding her earlier. "You know, you didn't answer my question."
"About what?"
Silverfox picked up her hamburger. "If you'd rather hook up with David as planned."
"Well, hooking up with David is better than shaking my naked ass in front of a room filled with strangers," Shadowfox admitted. She took a swig of Silverfox's beer. It was a local microbrew, and it hadn't appealed to Silverfox. Shadowfox liked it, or pretended to like it to spite her.
"Speak for yourself," Silverfox said, trying to time it so Shadowfox would send beer through her nose. To her disappointment, Shadowfox didn't.
"Who else should I speak for?" Shadowfox asked.
"Fair enough." Silverfox bit into her burger again.
"But seven grand plus tips and souvenirs is a lot of money," Shadowfox groused.
"What will you spend it on?" Silverfox asked.
"...Huh? Oh. What I meant is that Ebony wouldn't pass it up." Shadowfox frowned. "And Foxforce can use it. How much does an M110 cost? Fifteen thousand?"
"I was thinking you could spend it on yourself," Silverfox said.
"I would be," Shadowfox said. "The M110 might give Firefox the edge she needs to keep me alive."
Silverfox nodded. It was a game of probability and it was best to maximize your chances. "Still, there's another nine thousand or so..."
"We could all kick in," Shadowfox said. She grinned and nudged Silverfox in the ribs. "Can you imagine how she'd react if the three of us could buy it for her? Can't you see her doing the Happy Vixen Dance?"
Silverfox smiled slightly. "Yeah, that would be fun to watch..."
"And it's probably better this way anyhow," Shadowfox said. "It seems unlikely David would pick us both up."
Silverfox looked at her and blinked. She turned to a patron a table away. "Pardon me, sir," she said, politely.
He blinked behind his glasses and swallowed his French fry, exaggerating a bit to make it clear he was paying attention but couldn't answer because his mouth was full. "Yes?"
"My friend and I were wondering about the psychology of a heterosexual male," she said.
"I can help you with that," he said with a nod.
"Speaking theoretically, and assuming you were not involved in an exclusive relationship, would you pay for an appealing woman's meals in exchange for sex?" Silverfox asked earnestly.
"Oh, for Christ's sake," Shadowfox muttered to herself.
"Yes," he replied with a firm nod. "Assuming I were not in a committed relationship."
"And again, speaking theoretically, would you pay for two appealing women's meals in exchange for sex?"
"I'd change my answer there," he said. "That would be, 'Hell, yes.'"
"Thank you," Silverfox said. "And if you don't mind my asking, at what point would you stop? Is there an upper limit to the number of appealing and consenting women you would give meals for in exchange for sex?"
"I'm not actually with her," Shadowfox explained. "She just sat down there."
He considered. "Well, money would eventually be a factor," he said.
Silverfox nodded pleasantly. "Thank you." She turned to Shadowfox. "Did you get any comp tickets?" she asked.
"Uh -- " Shadowfox started. "Does Eve's Apple have a cover charge?"
"Yes. Never mind, I'll give him one of mine." Silverfox reached into her jacket and handed him a card. He looked at it.
"I've never gone to Eve's Apple. Thank you. Are you in Vancouver for long?" he asked hopefully, and Silverfox couldn't blame him.
Silverfox shook her head sadly. "I'm afraid our calendars are full. But thanks just the same." She turned to Shadowfox. "See?" she asked.
"When did you get those?" Shadowfox asked, amazed.
"When you were looking at costumes," Silverfox said. "That girl at the counter with more piercings than face? Totally into chimera chicks."
"Huh, really?" Shadowfox asked with polite interest, perhaps wondering if it would be worth her time to ingratiate herself with the counter help.
"You betcha. Too bad her face would set off a magnetic mine unless she has it degaussed."
"You're exaggerating again," Shadowfox accused her. "She had pierced ears, a nose ring, and a stud below her lip. Hardly more piercing than face."
"Sure it is. You're allowed three facial piercings before you have too many. Look it up; it's on Wikipedia," Silverfox lied seriously. "There's also this calculator where you answer very embarrassing questions and it will give an official ruling on whether you're a slut or a trollop." Silverfox paused. "I don't know anyone who scores lower."
"Right," Shadowfox said, permitting herself a slight, pained smile. "When are you meeting Jerry?" she asked.
Silverfox tried to look innocent. "I'm sorry?"
Shadowfox pointed to the next table with one of Silverfox's French fries. "He's a nice guy with a sense of humor," she said.
"Thank you," he replied.
"You're welcome," Shadowfox said to him. "And yet, you didn't try to hook up with him," Shadowfox said to Silverfox.
"Oh, thanks for reminding me," Silverfox said. She turned to him. "May I have your email address? Just as a precaution," she said.
"Sure," he said. He started writing on the back of his receipt.
"Jerry's supposed to be flying in this afternoon," Silverfox told Shadowfox. "You sort of ruined the joke. He was going to meet me at wherever you met David, thereby triggering great hilarity."
"If you'd like, I can pretend I didn't see it coming," Shadowfox offered. "I do that all the time with your jokes."
Silverfox winced. "Ooo, ow. What did I do to deserve that?"
Silverfox took the receipt from him with a smile and nod, and took out her phone to enter the address as he left. She could have entered it with her neural implant, but that was unwieldy, and she felt he deserved to see that she was at least taking the trouble to record it.
"How much does Jerry know?" Shadowfox asked. And there was some asperity there.
Silverfox felt herself bristle. "He knows that you and I are in Vancouver."
"Which is bad," Shadowfox said. "Because actually, Argent and Ebony are in Vancouver."
"He doesn't know that you're Ebony," Silverfox said. "Or that I'm Argent."
"And let's keep it that way, right?" Shadowfox shook her head. She shot a look at her. "Does he know we use fake IDs?"
"Since he's not an idiot, probably," Silverfox said.
"Damnit," Shadowfox frowned, "what if he recognizes me on a poster? Humans are good at visual recognition."
"...Yeah," Silverfox said weakly. She frowned back. "I will remind him to be careful. He was a big help in Victoria."
Shadowfox shook her head sadly. "How many comp tickets do you have?" she asked.
"Nineteen now. Why?" Silverfox asked.
"Can I have a few?" she asked, putting her hand out.
"Sure." Silverfox split the deck, and gave Shadowfox the bigger half. "Do you have plans for them?"
Shadowfox nodded as she slid them into an inside jacket pocket with one hand. She took out her cell phone with the other. Silverfox noticed for the first time that she wasn't wearing an earpiece. Shadowfox held up a finger to ask for a moment as she placed the call.
She grimaced and mouthed the word "Voicemail" to Silverfox before speaking up. "Hello, Herr Fischer?" she said. "This is Ebony. I was talking to you about a role in _Tetris._ I've got a gig at Eve's Apple in Vancouver, and I thought you might like some free tickets. Call me if you have the time." She hung up her phone. "If this doesn't get me a part in his crap film," she said smugly, "you can pour cheese and gravy on my head and call me poutine."
"Do I get to lick it off?" Silverfox asked.
They were in a public area of an office building, on the tenth floor with a bunch of travel agents. The window was floor-to-ceiling, and provided a nice view of the seafront.
"Which is Pier 29?" Shadowfox asked.
Silverfox had the monocular sitting on the palm of her right hand, holding it to her eye. "Do you see that yacht with the helicopter on the flight deck? That's Twenty-Eight. Twenty-Nine is the one to the left."
"Gotcha," Shadowfox said. "_Flying Saucer_ isn't there yet."
"That's right." Their sources indicated the catamaran would be showing there in a few days. "Do you want to sneak on board?" Silverfox asked.
"I want that as a viable Plan B," Shadowfox said. "Plan A is Fischer takes me there because yachts make this starlet's panties melt."
"Right," Silverfox said. "Any chance us getting some serious kit?"
"Firefox is trying to get permission," Shadowfox said, but she shook her head. "The RCMP isn't thrilled with the notion of armed foreign corporate operatives running around Vancouver."
"I expected better co-operation from them after I went down on that bastard..." Silverfox paused, and tried to remember.
"McKinnon," Shadowfox reminded her.
"Yeah, him. I don't want to get within a hundred meters of that boat again without tactical armor and firepower. I was lucky last time. Sorry."
"Nothing to apologize for," Shadowfox said. "If you say it's too risky, it's too risky."
Silverfox nodded and looked out at the ocean, glumly. "It's about time I went to see Jerry," she said.
"Right," Shadowfox said. "I'll head back to the hotel."
"Want to come along for dinner?" Silverfox asked. "I'll clear it with him."
"No, I don't want to intrude," Shadowfox said, shaking her head.
"You wouldn't be intruding," Silverfox said. "He's having dinner sent to his room."
Shadowfox smiled slightly. "Thanks, but you'd probably rather be alone."
Silverfox couldn't resist ruining it by continuing earnestly, "And you could pay your way with sexual favors."
"Not for one dinner," Shadowfox smirked and blew her a kiss.
There was a cougar chimera pushing a maid cart down the hall. Silverfox paused, first because she was reminded of Tawny, and then because she realized that had been the first chimera she had noticed since leaving the airport. Not too many chimerae in Vancouver. She wondered why as she knocked at the hotel room door.
He opened the door for her. He was in a tuxedo, his tie undone. "Sorry," he said. "I didn't finish in time."
She walked in, her clean panties in one of the pockets of the cargo pants he had bought her in Victoria. She was a bit taken aback. "I thought we were staying in," she said.
"We are," he said, finishing the knot in his bowtie. "The champagne should be chilled by now. Let me get you some."
"First, I need to remind you that Shadowfox and I are here on a mission," Silverfox said.
"Right," Jerry said. "So if I were to see you on the street, I can't approach you."
"Right. In fact, try to avoid us."
He looked over at her. "Did you need to use your ICR chip coming in?" he asked.
"No," she said. "I just walked in and knocked on your door."
He shook his head. "They let riff-raff wander in off the street? I better make sure the bolt is thrown."
Silverfox grinned. "How was your flight?" she asked.
"Not bad," he said. "Yours?" He handed her a crystal champagne flute. "Get ready to catch it if I don't open it right," he said.
Silverfox looked at the glass dubiously. It would be hard for her to drink from it. "Well, we took the red-eye --" there was a sharp pop and Silverfox fielded the stream. "Is that actually French?" she asked, amazed.
"Yes," Jerry said. "It's legal in Canada." He gained control of the magnum and half-filled her glass. Putting the bottle down, he gave her a glass straw. "Don't be shy -- I'll be using one too. Have a sip."
"Thanks." She tasted it. It was bubbly. Immediately, she felt uncomfortable. There were people who would pay several dollars for the taste in her mouth, but she wouldn't. It was ... okay, she guessed, but it was on the far side of the curve of diminishing returns for her. It wasn't like the Korth pistol, something she could appreciate. "It's good," she said.
"I'm glad," he said.
"You look nice," she said. She glanced down at her travelling togs apologetically. "My outfit isn't up for it."
"Once the food's delivered, feel free to take it off," he suggested, with a grin in his eyes.
Silverfox felt herself flashback, Blue Diamond, in a room with tuxedoes and suits and she was wearing nothing but a collar, where she was just one of the women there to be pretty, to be looked at and maybe rented for the night...
"Sorry," he said.
"No," she replied, shaking her head. It must have shown on her face and she was appalled by that, because it wasn't Jerry's fault he was making her think about that. She forced a grin. "I'm sorry. I'm thinking of an old job."
"Does this--" he asked, waving a hand to bring in the way the room was appointed -- "make you uncomfortable?" he asked, hitting the nail directly on the head.
Well, not directly. He probably thought she was unfamiliar with this sort of setting, when she was.
"No," she lied, smiling. She was about to ask why he had dressed up -- it really didn't seem like him -- when the doorbell rang.
"Room service," came a voice from outside, someone Silverfox immediately recognized as a human male.
He was small and Asian; he came in wheeling a cart with a number of chafing dishes, either silver or a chrome duplicate so well made she couldn't tell the difference. He was Filipino, Silverfox guessed.
He took the lid off the largest dish, revealing frankfurters, Italian sausage, links of kielbasa and split and warmed hot dog buns. He looked so solemn that Silverfox froze. Was she missing something? She wanted to laugh but didn't dare. With her luck, elaborate hot dog meals were the height of fashion.
"Hunts, '38," the waiter said without missing a beat. He opened a small bottle and held the lid out to Silverfox. "Would Madame care to sniff the cap?"
When Silverfox got off the floor, the waiter was still choking back a smile.
"Thanks, Xavier," Jerry said.
"I've always wanted to do that," Xavier said. "Thanks."
"Xavier operates the restaurant here," Jerry said. "He used to be work for my broker's brother."
"Jerry contacted me for advice about Food Court Plus," Xavier explained.
"About what?" Silverfox asked. She brushed her knees.
"It's a working name," Jerry said. "Remember how we were talking about starting a business to employ chimerae?"
"You're going to do it?" Silverfox asked, surprised.
"Sure, why not?" Jerry shrugged.
"The basic idea is a food court," Xavier said. "Each shop's operated by a different cook, paying rent in return for space and shared advertising."
"Kind of a micro-franchise," Jerry said.
Silverfox considered. Most chimerae had some housekeeper training, and just about every runaway she knew could make a few good meals.
"It's a bad investment," Xavier said. "A restaurant is just about the riskiest investment there is." He said it in an admiring way. As though he knew Jerry didn't expect to see a return on this investment, but he didn't disapprove.
"It'll be interesting," Jerry said with a shrug. "Anyway, dinner was Xavier's idea."
"It looks great," Silverfox said. She picked up a bun and slathered on some brown mustard.
"Hope you enjoy it," Xavier said. "It's kind of fun to screw around like this once in a while. Well, nice to meet you, but I've got to go."
"Thanks again, and see you tomorrow," Jerry said.
Silverfox lay a kielbasa in her bun and added sauerkraut.
"Did you know sauerkraut was the American Navy's answer to the Royal Navy's limes?" Jerry asked.
"No, I didn't," Silverfox said.
"And that there is a kielbasa festival in Massachusetts that draws competitive kielbasa experts from all over the world?" Jerry asked.
"Oh, we went to it once," Silverfox said, nodding. "We split up and every one of us bought a supply for the four of us. We had so much kielbasa that Shadowfox put it in everything but ice cream. I think she made kielbasa smoothies once."
"Will you marry me?" Jerry asked.
The question didn't surprise her, which surprised her. But her answer came immediately to her lips, less a decision than an inevitability.
"I'm flattered," she began. She groped for a way to finish her thought.
"Nobody ever says 'yes' after 'I'm flattered,'" Jerry said, his voice a little dry.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."
"Ah," he said, trying to keep disappointment out of his voice. "Is it me?"
"No," she said. "If I could get married I think it would be you. But I can't." She considered, looking him in the eye. "I like the idea of marrying you. I really do. But I can't do that."
He looked at her silently for a moment. She looked away, feeling uncomfortable.
"Is it a species thing?" he asked.
Well, it was a fair question. And she couldn't fob him off with a lie about how she wanted freedom. The truth was that given the choice she'd rather stay with him. Other guys were just substitutes to keep the tiger away.
"I have to stay with the others," she said.
"You don't have to. You know I can support us," he said.
"Foxforce isn't a job," she said.
"Say the word and I will set up a trust fund for you," he said.
"It's not about money," she said. "And it's not trust. And it's not that you're human."
"What, then?" he asked. There was a little impatience in his voice.
"I can't leave Foxforce," she said. "I just can't."
"I'm not asking you to do that," he said.
"Thank you." She considered. "But Foxforce takes up so much of me." She looked at him. "It wouldn't be right. If we were married, you'd want more of me -- you'd deserve more of me. And there isn't more of me to give."
"Why is Foxforce so important to you?"
"I can't leave them," Silverfox said, bewildered. "There's something only I can do."
"What?" he asked.
"I have to be the first one to die," she said, finally putting it into words.
She looked away from him, and pretended to be interested in the food. She took her kielbasa again.
"...What?" he asked, befuddled.
"I mean, I don't want to die, but when it happens it has to be -- it's going to happen," she said. "Look, if it comes to a fight and I see the target first, he's dead. Someday he'll see me first and I'll be dead." She shrugged.
"Is your job that dangerous?"
"Sometimes. I didn't tell you. It got close with Cain. I couldn't get to my gun easily enough, and he would have nailed me if Cheshire hadn't clubbed him." She shook her head. "So I'm not using that holster again."
He looked at her. She shrugged again, apologetically. "Just thinking about one of them dying before me ... it's more than losing a friend, it's a ... shameful thing. I'm not going to explain to Firefox or Technofox or Shadowfox why it's them in the box and not me."
He was staring at her. "You can't be serious," he replied, shocked.
Silverfox's hackles rose. She put down her kielbasa. "I've never been more serious," she said, voice flat.
He waved his hand. "No, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant..."
"What did you mean, then?" Silverfox was upset, but she felt Jerry -- of all people -- had a right to explain.
"I'm not laughing at you," he said. "You just caught me off guard." He looked at her. "I care about you. I don't want to hear about you dying."
He meant it, she knew. And that was why she took it from him.
"I don't want to die either, Jerry," she said. "But it's something I'm at peace with."
"Since when?" he asked, sharply.
"What do you mean?" she asked, puzzled. "Since always, I guess."
"Do you think, maybe," he asked tentatively, "that it's something that was put into you?"
She frowned. "Isn't there anything you'd die for?"
Jerry froze. "I don't know if I have the courage," he admitted. "But yes, there's things I should want to die for."
"Well, then," Silverfox shrugged. "There's things more important than your life, and there's things more important than mine."
"But did you decide that?" he asked.
"Is that something you decide?" she asked. "Did you wake up one day and pick something that was important to you?"
"No, of course not," he said, uncertainly. "But --"
"Then what's the difference?" she asked. "Either way, we're talking about the things that make us who we are."
"But you didn't have the ... chance to be something else," he said. "It didn't just happen -- it was put in you."
She shrugged. "What difference does it make?"
He frowned. "The difference is that I don't know if I'm talking about something you believe or if it's something put into you, to make you a better operative for ICON."
"Does it matter to you?" She shrugged.
"Yes. If it's programmed into you, and it's not for your benefit, then you have to fight it," he said. "You're a person, not a thing."
"There's a lot that's programmed into us," Silverfox said. "I mean, you people too." She took a step forward, put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him down. She pressed her mouth against his, felt him relax and flow into her touch. She released the kiss and touched his cheek with the tip of her tongue.
"Did you like that?" she asked.
"Of course," he said.
"Isn't that programmed? Instinctive?"
"I liked it because I like you," he said.
"So you've never kissed a girl you didn't like?" she asked.
He pressed his lips together. "It didn't feel like that," he said.
"I'm sorry. What can I do?" she asked.
"You could marry me."
"Would you settle for me nibbling this kielbasa in the most suggestive way possible?" she asked.
He grinned briefly. "I suppose," he said, forcing good nature into it.
Silverfox paused in front of the display of Ebony figurines. They were about ten centimeters tall, and came in three models. First was Ebony on her knees and touching herself; the second on all fours presenting herself to the viewer. Those, Silverfox knew, had been modifications of existing 3-D Printer files and had a curiously anonymous look to them. Andrew had taken a picture of Shadowfox in a pose similar to the first; Silverfox thought that Shadowfox should get a re-sculpt made, based on that picture.
The third was new; Ebony leaping into the air, sinuous, wearing a lascivious two-piece cheerleader costume. Her breasts had that sweet, delicious englobement that you got from a moment of zero-gravity. It looked like the air pressure on her downwards trajectory would expose her bra and panties, if she were wearing any, which Silverfox doubted; it caught the eye and made you look at it, as though it were about to flash you. Despite the costume, the pose vaguely reminded Silverfox of something carved into the wall of a temple, like she was a promised reward for a life well spent.
Silverfox lowered her head to get a better look. The figure's face had an unself-conscious and enthusiastic grin; almost like she was actually cheering a team on, and had no idea her goodies were about to fall out. The costume was done up to resemble the colors of some sports franchise; not close enough to invite a lawsuit. Over her breasts was the word "VANCOUVER." It was interesting that Silverfox thought of the figurine as a "she" instead of an "it."
The clothes, she suspected, were cast separately and snapped onto the figure. She wondered if they could be removed and if the figure was anatomically correct. She was tempted to buy one to find out. It was an extraordinary thing. She wanted one, even though she could sleep with the real deal.
Was that because Shadowfox was so pretty she always left you wanting more, or was it that she thought of "Ebony" as a different girl, another conquest, or was Silverfox just an incredible horn dog? Probably all three, Silverfox thought.
Silverfox shifted to a standing position, and noticed another patron quickly avert his eyes. Had he been staring a few moments before? People going to see Shadowfox probably had a soft spot for fox girls.
Silverfox was wearing an outfit Shadowfox had just bought for her the day before; it was business casual, with a collared shirt and a jacket in sober colors. Normally, Silverfox wore this sort of thing for formal occasions. It was off the shelf civilian, no armor and not even cut for a holster; Silverfox wished she had her armored jacket or at least her vest.
But Shadowfox had insisted. A woman going alone to a strip joint was probably either a prostitute looking for business or interested in girls; this costume in this context was just a touch butch-dykey. She didn't want to deal with patrons trying to pick her up.
She wished Jerry were here.
There was a flash of metal on a broad face. "Hi, Argent," said the girl behind the counter.
"Hi, Dolores," Silverfox replied.
"I think those really turned out well," Dolores said, pointing to the figurines. "Shame about the shirts."
"Yeah, it happens," Silverfox agreed. The first run of the Ebony T-Shirts had come out all blurry. Shadowfox blamed the fabric, the T-Shirt shop blamed the color set. Whichever the problem had been, it had been resolved with the second run.
"She's kind of hard to print, I guess. All the black."
"That's true. She's probably emptied half the black ink cartridges on the West Coast."
Dolores laughed heartily at that. Dolores was in lust. Why couldn't she have met Dolores in Victoria and been spared 25-cm-of-love?
"Did you ever buy anything from here?" Silverfox asked, pointing at the lingerie in the store.
"Uhm, yes," Dolores admitted.
Silverfox looked at her and smiled. She was tempted to ask if Dolores wanted to model it for her.
It was Ebony's third night, and Karl Fischer was taking advantage of a couple of comp tickets. Silverfox would be in the audience too, to get her first look at the guy who had probably shipped those chimera pelts to Vancouver.
That never happened to James Bond. He always got to exchange pithy comments with the villain by the second reel. If she were James Bond, she'd just shoot everyone she had a pithy exchange with. It would save time.
Fischer was using two tickets. He would be bringing a date. Silverfox wondered who it would be: business associate he was trying to impress, or a starlet? If it were a starlet, Shadowfox would get a sense of the competition.
Silverfox smiled pleasantly at Dolores. Silverfox hated all that metal, but aside from that she seemed like a decent person.
"I better get upstairs," Silverfox said. "Ebony starts in fifteen minutes."
"Yeah," Dolores said. "If you want a good seat."
The door opened and two men walked in.
He was a little below medium height, a bit heavy for his size. Not fat, more like a former athlete who was letting himself go a bit. His hair was a sort of sandy brown, and his skin was more red than tanned. He matched the mug shots of Fischer that Silverfox had seen. It was interesting how few Aryan supermen looked like Aryan supermen.
Behind him, a white-furred Ursus ducked to get in through the door. His armored jacket was the same make Silverfox had hanging back in the hotel room. Logically, she knew she should be happy she wasn't wearing armor; she wasn't. She wanted full tactical armor and her Glock 20s and Eve in an ankle holster.
Dolores looked at the Ursus, startled and shocked, like most people were the first time they saw one that close. Typically, an Ursus was something you saw at a construction site, carrying a load that didn't look too intimidating until you noticed a similar stack on a forklift. Seven feet didn't sound like much until you realized that wasn't a slender basketball player's frame; an Ursus' proportions would have been imposing if they were short, and at seven feet they were simply monstrous. He could flip a car over.
Fischer looked about, at first looking at the images of naked women and then at the walls. He started towards a door marked PRIVATE and stopped after reading it. He paused, a bit at a loss. He glanced over at Silverfox and Dolores, and guessed wrong about who worked there. "Did ve come in t'rough the wrong door?" he asked Silverfox.
"Are you going to see the dancers?" Silverfox asked.
"Yes," he said with a nod.
"Me too," Silverfox said, so he wouldn't suspect he was being followed.
"Sorry, she doesn't work here," Dolores explained. "The door's to the left of the one you came in. This is Eve's Apple Boutique. You want Eve's Apple Theater."
"Thank you," Fischer said. "Vhy is it built like that?" he asked, curiously.
"Something to do with zoning laws," Dolores said.
"Ah," he nodded, looked at Silverfox again, and then turned to leave. The Ursus stepped out of his way, and fell silently in behind him. Silverfox grabbed Dolores' hand and squeezed. Dolores grinned like a schoolgirl and Silverfox went to follow Fischer, swishing her tail once as part of her exit.
The door out to the street almost closed in her face; she pushed it open before it could close and turned to follow them. The Ursus glanced at her, and they made eye contact. Her registry chip identified her as Argent; she took his registry code and prepared a dossier request, set a delay on it in case he could intercept the message. Fischer opened the door to the club; the Ursus took the door jamb in his hand and passed through. Wordlessly, he pushed the door so Silverfox would have an easier time of catching it.
They went that way onto the floor, close, but not together; the man in a cheap gray suit who took their comp tickets knew, through some magic known only to greeters, that it was a table for two and a table for one.
The place was dark and there were tables with drinks and Silverfox could remember kneeling naked on a table like that, touching herself so the patrons could see, and taking a quarter from each. She felt something tingle through her, and she wasn't sure if it was entirely revulsion.
Silverfox got the less-good table, of course; but she consoled herself with the fact she could watch Fischer and the Ursus without being seen herself. She ordered a vodka martini because she had never tried martinis before. The martini arrived, carried by a modestly dressed waiter. She looked around; there were no dancers out. That was strange. Was that to give Shadowfox more of a star treatment?
There were still a few minutes before Shadowfox started. She sent off a request for a dossier on the Ursus; she got the standard business card back. His name was Avalanche and he worked for Fischer KG with the job title of Administrative Assistant. She glanced dubiously at the back of his head, which seemed to blend into his body by way of a hugely muscular neck. He probably negotiated with the unions.
"Tonight, appearing exclusively at Eve's Apple," came a voice over the PA system, "We bring you ... Ebony!"
Exclusively? Silverfox thought. As though Ebony might be appearing at two places tonight?
The spotlights on the stage suddenly came on. The hubbub of conversation dropped for an instant as attention went to the stage. They were set on a single chrome pole, erect and suggestive. The pole seemed to be saying, "Look at me! I'm a phallic symbol!" It was uncanny. Certainly there was nothing about the pole itself that was particularly phallic when compared to other poles. She wondered if it was the context.
Although some time passed, Fischer and Avalanche didn't exchange a word. Was that because they knew each other so well words were superfluous, or maybe they didn't like one another much?
The lights on the stage switched off, and Silverfox saw Shadowfox scuttle out under cover of darkness, with a cape draped around her to break up her form, so she'd seem to appear out of nowhere when the lights came on. Melting into the darkness was an effect Shadowfox liked, and she used it a lot. She went to her knees in front of the pole and dropped the cape off her shoulders.
The lights came on and the conversation almost died. Silverfox frowned. She never understood why people would pay to go to a public performance and talk over it. Did they really think their remarks were more interesting than Shadowfox?
Shadowfox was kneeling in front of the pole, her head resting against it, back to the audience. Her ears were folded, tail tucked away, a trick to make her silhouette look more human.
Cheshire had shipped some of her favorite costumes to her. Silverfox recognized this one; it was the crotch-less chainmail bikini. Silverfox liked the crotch-less metal bikini. It annoyed her when people called Red Sonja's scale mail bikini a chain mail bikini, because Red Sonja's costume was modest compared to this. She shifted forward, and stared, grateful that she could pretend to be blending in with the crowd. They wouldn't be auctioning off this costume.
The music started with a single loud guitar chord. Shadowfox snapped her head up, bringing her muzzle into view, to look suddenly uncanny and inhuman. When the same chord played again, Shadowfox jumped to her feet in a single smooth motion, spinning halfway around the pole and facing the audience. When she landed, the links of her chainmail sounded against one another, making a sound midway between a chime and a hiss.
The light switched to play directly on her. She didn't look at the audience. Instead, she ran her eyes up the pole, with an expression that mixed awe and excitement. It gave the audience a moment to see her and see her chain mail. Chain mail could be made with links so tight it was opaque. This wasn't that sort of chain mail. It draped over her breasts and the narrow strip between her legs that almost reached her knees didn't conceal anything; Silverfox's pleasure in looking at a body that nice was tainted by a feminine sympathy when she thought of how it must pinch.
Silverfox noticed a woman was singing. "If you wanna get me hot / gotta show me what you got..." She smiled. She liked songs where women got to be sexually aggressive. She'd have to send it to Jerry.
Shadowfox stroked the pole lightly, with the tips of her fingers, gently up past her head. And then she put her hand around it and pushed down firmly, in a way that suggested she was giving a hand job but which would probably hurt like hell in real life. Shadowfox rubbed her snout against the pole, and pretended to lick it with the tip of her tongue. The taste gave her such pleasure that closed her eyes and swooned backwards, gripping the pole firmly with both hands, taking the momentum from the fall and swinging around and down, holding her body horizontal with both hands. Silverfox wondered how many people in the audience knew how strong she had to be to do that. When Shadowfox's legs were pointing to the audience, she caught herself with her right leg, bent down at the knee, and spread out her left. The chainmail was flipped over so it didn't get in the way of the view. Silverfox's tongue came out past her lips as she pavloved.
Shadowfox paused for a moment to synchronize with the soundtrack, and then let go of the pole, spinning once in midair to land on all fours. She presented, raising her tail, and then turned about gracefully on the floor, looking up at the pole with admiration.
She didn't seem to jump so much as she floated up, wrapped herself around the pole, and slid down.
Without glancing at the audience, she looked up at the pole, and swishing her hips to the bass line, lifted her top over the breasts that it had been more or less covering. She pressed them together, the pole between them. She moved her breasts up and down slowly, tossing her head in a way meant to express that yes, this was good for her too. The symbolism couldn't have been more obvious if a flashing neon sign had appeared pointing to the pole saying, "Guys, this could be yours, if you get what I mean, and I think you do."
Silverfox closed her mouth and swallowed. It was as though Shadowfox was doing a dance of love for, almost worship of, the erect penis. Not any man's penis -- just the penis in general. The penis, not as part of a friend or lover, but standing as an institution on its own. Standing erect as an institution on its own. Normally, Silverfox was indifferent to the deeper meaning behind art, but she found it profoundly moving. She felt a tear come to her eye. It didn't make her regret being female, but it made her wish she could ... borrow a penis of her very own for a while.
As the dance came to its climax, Silverfox sat in the rapt amazement that only the masters typically evoked in an audience. Shadowfox floated to the top of the pole again, and slipped down a final time, embracing the pole between her legs and moving her hips to mime copulation. When her tail touched the floor, she spasmed and fell onto her back. The music ended with a low chord; when it played, a spray of water came down from the ceiling. Shadowfox, eyes closed, twitched ecstatically as her fur was soaked with passion.
Silverfox watched, emotionally spent, with mingled amazement and the strange sense of familiarity that could only be evoked by works of the highest caliber. The spray of water was not only a good way to end that dance; it seemed to be the only way to end that dance; a follow through with the poetic inevitability of Oedipus's fate, although Silverfox didn't know that simile.
Shadowfox looked up at the audience and grinned, and swished her tail. She licked a bit of water off the corner of her mouth and winked as she rearranged her top.
As the audience burst into applause -- Silverfox applauded, honestly, along with the rest -- Shadowfox got up to her feet, and started taking tips from the tables closest to her. At that moment, Silverfox realized she was supposed to be watching Fischer.
The man was floored, Silverfox realized. He was trying not to show it, with limited success. But Silverfox knew, to the very core of her being, that Shadowfox had landed herself a coveted role in a Fischer KG production. Actually, Silverfox suspected that Shadowfox could, at that moment, have gone to any man in the audience and received anything or even everything they owned in return for a vague hint that perhaps, Shadowfox would do for their poles what she had just done for the dancing pole. All Shadowfox had to do to seal the deal was just...
Yes, she bounced into the audience, taking fifty dollar bills in return for a smile and a few words, heading towards the world's worst director / producer. Fischer and Avalanche both moved to offer her a chair; Avalanche stopping midway through when he saw the boss was going to do it. So Fischer got Shadowfox's smile and a pat on the hand. Yes, Silverfox thought, Shadowfox had found what was probably the only way to get a human to hold a chair for a wet canine.
"Mind if I take off my top?" Shadowfox asked casually. "It pinches."
"...No," Fischer said, as his penis took over the voice centers of his brain.
Shadowfox quickly pulled the chainmail top off over her head, expertly moving her shoulders so her fur wasn't caught in the links as she did so. She dropped it to the table, where it made the strange hissing sound of chain links rubbing against one another. As far as concealment was concerned, taking it off made very little difference. But there was a psychological difference; Shadowfox turned from a performer in a sexy costume to Ebony who just didn't mind being topless, because that was just the sort of girl Ebony was. And that maybe she was the sort of girl who would go down on someone for a role in a Fischer KG film.
Shadowfox didn't spare a glance for the chimera chick a few tables away, which was only proper. Silverfox actually considered buying a table dance from her, just because she wanted to be closer to her.
Shadowfox stretched and moved both shoulders, and Fischer tried not to look at her breasts but failed. When he forced himself to look at Shadowfox's face, the vixen grinned, half way, as though to say that she knew exactly where Fischer had been looking, and that she didn't blame him in the least.
"I can only spend a few minutes," Shadowfox apologized. "Customers are waiting. What did you think of my dance?"
"Very nice," said Fischer's penis. It was a bit hypocritical of Silverfox to think that because their respective genitalia were in full agreement. "You move very well. Can you do your own stunts?"
"Within reason," Shadowfox replied. "It depends what the stunts are. That scene where the female lead jumps out of a third story window? I can do the jump into an airbag. But I'm not at all sure about the scene where you have women hanging from their wrists."
"Oh, they be vearing body harnesses," he said confidently. "To take up de veight," he added, in case Shadowfox were unfamiliar with the concept of "body harnesses."
"Body harnesses while naked?" Shadowfox asked, casually.
Fischer froze for a moment, and Silverfox realized the question was a mistake, because it demonstrated that in the five seconds the exchange had taken Shadowfox had thought more deeply about the problems of filming the scene than Fischer had.
"Oh, you meant with my fur brushed over the harness," Shadowfox said. "I hadn't thought of that." Silverfox was filled with admiration. It was a masterful save.
"Yes, exactly," Fischer said, nodding as though he had thought of that.
"Yes, I can do that," Shadowfox said.
"Of course, ve need to rewrite the female lead for you to play her," Fischer said thoughtfully.
"...The lead?" Shadowfox asked, uncertainly. "I thought you wanted me for a small role."
"Ja. Ve had Anna Tiesse signed up for the lead," Fischer explained. "But she broke an ankle."
"...Ah," Shadowfox said. "I had heard about that." Shadowfox glanced up at the stage, and back at Fischer apologetically. "I have to go now. I'll be back."
Silverfox, Shadowfox, and Dolores hopped onto the bus, the last-but-one of that run.
"Well, I got the part," Shadowfox said dubiously.
"Congratulations," Dolores said, excitedly. "What is the part?"
"I'm playing the female lead in Karl Fischer's adaption of _Tetris,_" Shadowfox said, with a certain lack of animation.
"Wow..." Dolores said, feigning enthusiasm. "That's great."
Shadowfox looked at her. "I've seen Fischer's movies too," she said. She sighed. "I'm thinking of it as a screen test. Industry people will see it, and I hope I'll be able to shine through the Fischer."
"Sure you will," Dolores said, in the tones that people used when trying to cheer up a beloved relative who just received notification that the tests came back positive. Shadowfox smiled at her and looked away with mild concern, as though she actually had a career and was wondering if this would help it or not.
"I can't think of another film where the female lead was a chimera," Silverfox said.
"Apart from pornos, no," Dolores said, grabbing the observation like a drowning man and a rope. Silverfox wondered if she remembered that Shadowfox's credits were all pornos.
"Wow," Silverfox said, pretending to be impressed. "Isn't that something, Ebony? You might be the first chimera to be the Girl in a video game adaption movie."
"Why did it have to be Karl Fischer?" Shadowfox asked nobody in particular. "Why does the breakthrough film have to be his?"
There was nothing to say to that.
Dolores got off to transfer to another line.
"Isn't Jerry's hotel near the next stop?" Shadowfox asked.
"I wanted to make sure you got to ours," Silverfox replied.
"Scoot," Shadowfox laughed. "I can take care of myself."
"Thanks," Silverfox grinned.
She woke up at dawn. She put out her hand and assured herself that he was still there, and comforted, she closed her eyes again.
She opened her eyes reluctantly. There was something buzzing in her head.
A medium priority message from Technofox. She didn't feel like reading it, but forced herself. It ran to one terse sentence: Darren Baker was out on bail.
Baker? Who the hell is Darren Baker?
And then she remembered; a barge home, shotgun, QSPR rounds, falling into Lake Union --
"Motherfucker!" she yelled.
Jerry half jumped out of bed. "Whu?" he asked.
"Darren Baker!" she said, gesturing frantically.
"That bastard!" Jerry snarled.
"And his fucking shyster, and asshole judge!" Silverfox snapped.
"Fuck 'em all," Jerry growled, "and not in a nice way." He hesitated. "Rancid pig shit fucking fuckers!"
"Wait," Silverfox's ears twitched. "You know who Darren Baker is?" she asked, baffled.
"Not a clue," Jerry said cheerfully. "I guessed from context."
"Oh." Silverfox grinned sheepishly.
"And then you mentioned a lawyer, so I figured he had to be bad," Jerry continued.
"Gotcha," Silverfox nodded.
"So who is he?" he asked.
"Oh. He owned a pier in Seattle that was used to land a shipment of chimera pelts from Canada. I was chasing him when I fell into Lake Union."
"Chimera pelts? Is that what this is all about?" Jerry looked uncomfortable.
"Yes." Silverfox looked at him. "You know when I said it was safe for you to be involved?"
"In Victoria? Yeah."
"Well, this is where that stops being true," she said, seriously. She kissed him on the nose.
"Really?" he asked.
"We can't see one another for a while." She hesitated, and tried to think of a way to explain. "You see," she said, "I'm here under an assumed name, which I will call 'Madame X.' There's a box over here called 'Silverfox.' Darren Baker knows that Silverfox has pretty much ruined his life. And here's another box called 'Madame X'--"
"And there's a third box called 'Jerry' which links to 'Silverfox,'" Jerry started, "and if a search agent connects 'Jerry' and 'Madame X' --"
"--Then they might connect 'Madame X' and 'Silverfox,'" Silverfox finished. "And that would be bad."
"Right," Jerry said seriously. For a moment, Silverfox was surprised that he had figured it out so quickly. Then she remembered he had invented search agents. He looked at her.
"You're sure there's no need for me to stay here?" he asked.
"Well..." she didn't want to say it.
"Don't be shy," he said. "I'm not a trained security agent. And unless you need someone to pilot a small boat --"
"I wish we did," Silverfox said.
"Should I leave town?" he asked.
"That ... might be a good idea," she said regretfully. "Unfortunately, I can't think of anything I need you for aside from amazing sex."
"Which you can get from about anyone," Jerry said cheerfully.
She kissed him, and shook her head briefly. He opened his mouth to say something, and she covered his mouth with hers. She didn't want to talk any more. "I better go," she said, and hopped out of bed.
"How did Baker get out?" Shadowfox asked her netbook, which was now in conference phone mode.
"It looks like Nishinobu screwed up," Firefox replied briefly. "He delayed once too often and the judge got angry."
"Fucking great," Silverfox replied. "How long has Baker had to vanish?"
"He was released at 1700 Pacific yesterday," Technofox said. "Thirteen hours."
"Want me in Seattle?" Silverfox asked.
"Nishinobu sent police to stake out his place," Firefox replied. "David's going to go there too."
"If I were him I wouldn't even go back to my place," Shadowfox said. "I'd run."
"You may be right," Technofox agreed.
"Did Zocchi ever say where he was going to fly Baker?" Firefox asked.
"South of Lion's Bay, just north of Vancouver," Technofox replied. "But Baker probably knows we know that."
"Swell," Shadowfox said.
"Orders?" Silverfox asked.
"Yes," Firefox said. "Remember McKinnon? The Mountie you slept with in Everett?"
"Could you narrow it down a little?" Silverfox asked.
"He looks a bit like David Hyde-Price," Technofox reminded her.
"I was joking," Silverfox muttered.
"...Oh," Technofox said, startled. And then, "I knew that."
"Right. Silverfox, he'll be picking you up in half an hour," Firefox said.
"Really?" Shadowfox said, astonished.
"How was I supposed to know?" Technofox muttered darkly.
"You two are up there with the RCMP's knowledge," Firefox said. "I'm not exactly sure what he wants to say to you -- but it's probably important."
"Yeah, that's like 0630 local time," Silverfox agreed.
"You better shower and change," Shadowfox said. "He might have something personal in mind."
He waved at her from a beat up Toyota and she slid into the passenger seat. She buckled up as he hit the accelerator. They chatted politely about the weather and the trip and the hotel before he switched to business.
"Just a few things," he said. "First, we were a little surprised that Shadowfox is working. Ebony's visa allows it, but we didn't think she'd get a seven thousand dollar gig if she's here to work on an investigation."
Ah, of course. Shadowfox was taking a job from a naked Canadian. "That wasn't set up, I swear," Silverfox said. "It just sort of happened. She didn't want the job, but the offer was so good turning it down wouldn't make sense."
"Yeah, that's what I figured," McKinnon nodded. "Anyway, we found out that your Mister Baker has an apartment in Vancouver."
She looked at him. "You're kidding."
"Not at all," he said. "We've got a watch on it. If he shows up, we can nail him for violating the terms of his bail and send him back to Seattle."
"So he's not there," Silverfox said, disappointed. "Any chance we can check the place out?"
"That's why I asked to see you. I have a warrant with me."
"Great, thanks." She hesitated. "Any chance you can swing a pistol permit for me?"
He shook his head ruefully. "Nope. Just getting you permission to enter Canada with a fake passport was hard enough." He looked at her. "We don't really have a history of working with ICON. Maybe next time, if this case works out."
"Are we being recorded?" she asked.
"No," he said, looking at her. He looked a little bewildered. "Why?"
"Because I was wondering if you had a date tonight, and I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your boss," Silverfox said.
He grinned, boyishly. "No. Yes. I mean, great."
Silverfox looked out the window so he wouldn't see her smile.
The apartment building was a bit shabby and run down, but not quite bad -- Silverfox was reminded of 7.62's place in Atlanta. She thought she spotted the stakeout van ... yes, the driver nodded at McKinnon's car and gave him a thumbs up. McKinnon parked and put a wireless headset in his ear.
"Do you have evidence gloves?" he asked.
Silverfox nodded. Chimera hands didn't fit in human gloves, so they had to carry them. Silverfox followed half a step behind him, not wanting to seem too assertive. Technically, she was here as a courtesy. McKinnon showed his ID to a bum at the side of the door ... she hadn't twigged her; good disguise work. McKinnon put both his hands inside his coat, and they went inside and up the elevator. McKinnon must have had an RFID passkey for the building.
They got a couple of looks as they took the elevator to the third floor. Silverfox hoped it was because there weren't too many chimerae about, and not that they spotted them as cops. McKinnon took out a key and unlocked one of the doors. Silverfox pulled on her evidence gloves.
It was a studio apartment, with cheap furniture. Baker didn't spend a lot of time here. Silverfox paused. The room was a bit musty, and there was a thin layer of dust on everything. She didn't think anyone had been there for a while, and there wasn't anyone there now. Damn.
"Is this place under his name?" Silverfox asked.
"No," McKinnon said. "He's using an alias."
"Technofox might be able to do something with that," Silverfox said.
"I'll see she gets it," McKinnon replied.
Studio apartments always had blind spots that couldn't be seen from the front door; Silverfox first looked at these to assure herself that nobody was lurking undetected. She wished she had a gun.
"It's legal to hunt those," McKinnon said, his voice disappointed. She looked. He was pointing at a mountain lion head on a plaque on the wall.
"Even in Canada?" Silverfox asked. "Too bad. Keep an eye out for .410 shotgun shells. He might have some QSPR rounds in .410. QSPR is --"
"I know," McKinnon said, surprised. "That's not even legal in the States. What was he doing with them?"
"Dunno yet," Silverfox said.
Against the wall in the sleeping niche was an elegant roll top desk, beautiful walnut, standing out among the IKEA furniture like a Rolls-Royce among Mitsubishis. Silverfox tested it; it was locked.
The lock wasn't tough to pick; it was a privacy lock, not a security lock. Silverfox opened the top.
Sitting on either side of a computer monitor were two skulls; one feline, one canine. The feline skull had a small hole in the left temple, about big enough for a .38 pistol.
"Found some more trophies," Silverfox said.
"Protected species?" McKinnon asked.
The skulls were about the size of human skulls, with jaws just a bit too small to be adult animals. The heads were high and domed, housing a brain about the same size as a human's.
"Sort of," Silverfox replied briefly.